Torture
by Foxyperv
Summary: TF:A That's why you're doing that...to try to win him again, but most importantly...to make me suffer


**PLEASE READ ARTIST'S COMMENT FIRST**

**CAREFUL! SLASH, THAT MEANS MECHXMECH ROMANCE!!!  
NO LIKEY? NO LOOKIE!  
Warning: Mature, STICKY!!!!!! non-con  
Pairing: read and find out**  
**Timeline: guess?**

**AN: this has been trotting through my head for quite a while now  
there's actually a little story for the odd pairing  
anyway, I had this in mind and NiGhT-sTaLkEr13 and I had a convo about rape in fanfics  
about how people tended to make all the bad guys rapist for absolutly no reason and how it didn't make sense  
killing is one thing, raping is another  
still I needed out cuz the idea clang to me  
I do hope I gave a good reason to this scene...**

I am going to deactivate you. I am going to slagging _deactivate_ **you**! How dare you touch what is mine? And while knowing full well that fact, none of the less. Take your fragging servo off his neck! Stop caressing him like you owned him, you never did and you never will. You're lowering your hand, making it wander across his chest-plates and, of course, he can't defend himself because of those Primus forsaken stasis cuffs.

You now kneel to the ground, your faceplate close, _too_ close, of his, and you breathe in deep, relishing in his smell…you jerk a bit, you must have smelled something odd. You angrily glance at me, oh so it was that… My own smell, the one that should be all over him, since **I** was all over him last night. I smirk at the memory.

Your fist curls on his chest, and then relaxes as you continue your unwanted exploration. Meanwhile your other servo has tried to reach his antenna, but he jerked away, the only real movement he can do, at least that's what I think…as I give my undivided attention to your wandering servo that has almost reach his destination, going lower and lower.

I growl as it comes above his panel, your fingers lingering here before actually cupping it. He twitches, fails at closing his thighs, and then suddenly jerks. Concentrated on your servo, I wasn't paying attention to your mouth. You bit him in the neck, you motherfragger! **I** am the only one authorized of such thing. Now you're licking him, as if apologetic, but it's too late, he's afraid, he's trembling, and I'm pissed, ready to tear out the first who comes at servo's reach, preferably you.

Why do you do this? It isn't exactly in your program to rape others, on the contrary, you should be preventing such actions…but I guess the spark as its reason, which the reason doesn't know…still you should stop. Whatever you two used to have, not only is it over, but it actually never started…actually not on his part. He lied to you! He never loved you, he didn't even _like_ you! His attempted murder towards you should be the proof of that…All he wanted from you was a high rank and confidential information, _nothing else_!

Wait…now that I think of it, you **do** know that… You may be an old fool but you're not that stupid. You know perfectly well he used you; simply…you fell hard for him…very hard…_too_ hard… And so, you can't let him go, specially knowing that if you do he will directly run to _me_. That makes you sick, sick of jealousy…

That's why you're doing that, to be able to touch him again, to maybe win him back –your vocal components didn't stop working since you were alone with him, are you proposing him something?- but most importantly: to make me _suffer_.

You fragger… As I mused, you have opened his panel and changed position. You are now sitting on the chair he used to be, his pedes on your knees, his valve positioned above your spike, both of you facing me. You want me to see every bit of this.

You slowly lower him, he panics, tries to squirm out of your grip, fails; you continue. The tip of your spike enters, it's hard: his valve is dry. You tighten your grip on hips and you force yourself in with one violent push. I can't hear him, but the way his head shoots back and his painful expression is enough: he must have screamed.

You don't let him adjust, your pace is slow but hard, pink fluids start dripping out of his thighs. As you pleasure yourself, you kiss his neck softly, murmuring things to him –propositions, promises, or words of love? - And tears trail down his contorted faceplate, and his chest-plates jerkily heaves at each sob he lets out.

Anger turns into madness; I fight against my bonds, howl wildly and imagine thousands of long, painful deactivations for you. You will **pay**.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally reach climax, your transmetal fluid tainting his insides and thighs as it drips along his own energon. You carefully cradle him in your arms, still crying, continuously whispering at his audios as you rock him back and forth. His trembling first stops, then his sobs die out, finally his frame relaxes: it seems he has fallen in recharge.

You get up and bring him to a far corner, in which I can perceive a berth. You lay him there, bend over him and then lift yourself up again. This time you go to the door and out. In the corridor I can hear your heavy footsteps getting closer, you open the door.

I must be frightening to look at, drool coming out of my mouth and death glare set on my optics, but you seemed unfazed, probably because you aren't looking at me but at my bonds, damaged but still holding me firmly in place.

You smirk. "I see you've tried to free yourself." So that's why you hadn't put the cuffs on, you wanted the proof that it had affected me, you slagging old fool. "It's a shame the room was soundproof, I'm sure you would have appreciated the noises he made." I growl at you, oil boiling in anger. "But it was necessary if I wanted you to see without him seeing you…besides watching ourselves in the mirror was quite enticing." My optics narrow to slits, trying to get out of those bonds will only give you satisfaction; I then decide to change tactics: I will play your own game.

You turn your head; a dreamy expression replaces the smirk. I look in the same direction, towards him.

"Beautiful, isn't he?" I tighten my fists, I smirk cockily at him.

"And again, you haven't seen him overloading." You sneer, touché.

"As a matter of fact I did, several times actually, in the few stellar cycles he was my lover.

"_Fake_ lover." I correct, you glare hatefully. "With a _fake_ faceplate." You realize, I'm enjoying. "You've never seen his **real** expression of bliss, as **I** did plenty of times."

We stare at each other, hard, tension getting higher and higher as kliks go by. Finally you chuckle, I have a bad feeling.

"It's unimportant now, as I will now have all my sweet time to discover everything about him." I frown. "I hope you looked at him good because this is the last you're seeing him. From now on, he will stay at headquarters for interrogation –at least that will be the official story- And you…will go back to the Stockades under heavy surveillance." I'm completely shocked, and must be showing it as you smirk down at me.

"You canno-…"

"I can and I will." You say as you press on a button next to the window, which darken itself until I couldn't see him anymore. You activate your comm. link.

"You may come take the prisoner now." A few kliks later, two big bots enter the room, they look afraid as I bare my dentals to them like a wild animal.

"Just take him already." You say, impatient. They do as told, one each side of me, and guide towards the door. I pass next to you; you dare to speak up again.

"It was a pleasure speaking to you, **Lord Megatron**." I give my best glare.

"This isn't over **Ultra Magnus**." As I walk through the corridors, scaredy Autobots on each side, I make the vow to come back, to kill that old fool and to save him, to save Shockwave.


End file.
